Pitiless Love (and Merciful Time)
by Lady StarFlower
Summary: "Sorry." The girl says absently, looking at him as if he was someone different and faraway. "I just…have we met before?" Or; in which Felix and Annette get a second chance at love, and Byleth learns a new use for the Divine Pulse. Felix/Annette, in a Reincarnation AU Fix-It after the BE Route. Slow Burn, with Eventual Smut.
1. Libraries are Romantic and Here's Why

I.

He doesn't usually come to this part of the library. Garreg Mach University has such ridiculous amounts of government funding that the famous St. Macuil Resource Center had three stories and two sets of elevators to boot. And even then, no one really goes there unless they were planning to find some obscure study among the archives, cram in the isolated study rooms, or be blown in the abandoned basement.

It's a waste of tax dollars, if anyone asks him.

And so it's with some trepidation that Felix steps out into the dark recesses of the third floor, which is pretty much a ghost town at this time of night. He has a list of articles for his Introduction to Horology class in his hand that he's determined to track down even if it kills him, which is a definite possible considering how abandoned this place is.

As he makes his way down, frowning at the awkward spelling of the authors' names as he slowly collects his books, Felix pauses as a strain of soft, dreamy humming floats to his ear. The voice is female, sweet, and it comes from the only lit spot on the floor.

Who SINGS in a library?

He finds himself gravitating towards the sound. If this were a slasher movie, Felix would probably be that naïve idiot who dies in the first ten minutes of the film. But he can't help himself. The song is…intriguing, to say the least.

"Oh, how I just love to clean. Clean the library room! Just takes a flash of light and then it all goes boom! A flash and then a big boom!"

He rounds the corner. There's the source of the singing, a slim girl busily filing heavy hardbacks on the shelf labeled _300.1 to 350.1_. Teetering precariously on one of those spindly metal stepladders, it's a miracle she's staying balanced, although it is probably because of her small (and thus more manageable) frame.

He observes her for a bit longer, amused by the way she seems to be lost in her own world without two earbuds tucked in her ears. She isn't bad to look at either, with her pale complexion and swept up hair that frames her wide slate blue eyes.

With a start, Felix realizes that he recognizes the girl. She's friends with that tall girlfriend of Sylvain's that he's always bringing over to their apartment. She always leaves before he has a chance to properly meet her.

What's her name again…?

_Heir of House Dominic, of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. _

He rubs his temples. Late nights make his head ache and conjure up the most absurd things. Just now… 

The singing girl pauses in her singing to squint at one of the covers in her hand. She catches a glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye and shrieks in alarm, tipping backwards. "AAAHH!"

The disaster happens in slow motion. The textbooks fall first amidst a flapping and tumbling of scholarly pages. The girl tumbles next, her arms wind-milling as her doe eyes widen with terror. And as she keels backwards, Felix's arms fly up.

In hindsight he can't tell whether he was shielding himself or actually trying to catch her, because by the time his brain could register what was happening, she's already falling on top of him in a messy tangle of arms and legs.

CRASH!

Seeing stars is the best term to what he's experiencing right now. The jarring impact is enough to send sparks of red and black spots scattering across his vision.

He groans, trying to sit up. One of his textbooks was a hardcover and its sharp corner is digging into his thigh.

But something far softer and far warmer is also draped on top of him, and for a beat of three seconds two pairs of eyes, cerulean blue and copper fire, stare into each other with mirrored expressions of dazed shock. It doesn't take long for Felix's stupid brain to register that her slender waist is molded almost perfectly against his.

His head throbs, and for a moment he swears she's wearing a long, white dress, rimmed in blue and orange ribbon.

The girl's lips part in surprise. "A-Ah…!"

And then immediately comes the inevitable flustered scramble of separation. She detaches herself with the speed of someone who just realizes that she was just practically glued hip to hip with a stranger. He pulls away with the speed of someone who has no intention of violating Title IX-like codes anytime soon.

"I'm so sorry!" The girl blurts, scrambling to pick up the scattered books around them. "Are you okay? That was a really bad fall!"

"I'm fine." He grunts, wincing as he sits up gingerly, rubbing his hip. "You?"

"A bit shaken, but I think I'll live!" She smiles uncertainly at him as she offers him his books. He takes them with a brusque nod, relieved to see that none of them are badly damaged, just a bit wrinkled where the pages were bent out of shape.

As she dolefully begins to collect her own books, Felix finds himself asking, "What's that song you were singing earlier?"

Interestingly, the girl's face turns a dark red, pales to a sickening gray, and then flushes a bright shade of pink as her hands slowly came up to cover her mouth in mute horror, all within a space of a few seconds. "Ohhhh, did you…hear me?"

He nods, bemused. "It was…unique."

She groans, burying her face in her hands. "Ahhhh, please forget what you heard! It's so embarrassing…"

"I don't see how it's embarrassing." Felix says honestly. "Your skill is impressive."

"Please, just—" Her wide eyes peek out from behind her fingers. "What did you say?"

Felix feels his ears grow hot. What was he thinking, blurting out something like that to a girl he just met? He turns around and begins brusquely picking up the rest of her scattered books. "Never mind."

The girl sticks out her lips in a pout. It doesn't do anything but draw attention to how plump and lush they are. Felix stomps on _that_ observation in a hurry.

"Please." She pleads. "People will think I'm weird for singing these silly songs. Can't you at least keep it a secret?"

He looks over her with a steady eye, and she squirms under his silence. The lone fluorescent light buzzes above them as they stare at each other, assessing, considering, analyzing in the abandoned floor of the library.

"Alright." Felix finally says with a shrug. "But I won't forget about this."

The girl wrings her hands despairingly. "Not even a little bit?"

_It's permanently etched in my memory_

He speaks the words without thinking. "I can't. It's permanently etched in my memory."

The girl's eyes widen. Then they gloss over in a most disconcerting manner, as if her mind is suddenly teleported to somewhere faraway. Her hand come up to her temples as a faint wince twists her pretty features.

His head throbs painfully. He bites his lip as an overwhelming feeling of vertigo sweeps through his body.

Her voice pulls him back to the present. "Sorry." The girl says absently, looking at him as if he was some sort of alien. "I just…have we met before?"

Felix tilts his head. "Maybe. Your friend is dating my roommate."

The girl laughs suddenly, her eyes lighting up most brilliantly as her hands clap excitedly. "You're Sylvain's roommate?! Oh my gosh, Mercedes is there all the time! How have I never met you?"

He shrugs, a bit amused at her effusiveness. "We have…very different schedules." After a thought, he adds, "Plus, he's so damn sickening when he's with her."

The girl snickered. "I'll bet." Her face brims with merriment and just as Felix's realizing that he rather likes that impish look on her, she sticks out her hand jauntily. "The name's Annette, by the way."

_Annette Fantine Dominic and heir to House Dominic of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus_

He takes her hand and shakes it, ignoring the tiny, mysterious whisper in the back of his mind.

"I'm Felix."

O.O

"_He's alive."_

_The hateful hiss jolts Annette out of her reading. She looks up to see Felix barging into the tent, tossing aside his sheathed weapon in disgust, his furs wet with blood and rain. "What? Who's alive?"_

"_The professor." Felix yanks off his gloves one by one, his jaw tight. "I saw him leading Imperial forces near the western border."_

_The heavy tome falls from her numb fingers. "He…I don't understand." Her voice trembles. "I thought he died five years ago!"_

_Felix curses, shucking off his outer coat. "It's hard enough to constantly fight off those Imperial bastards as it is! And now, due to some cursed black magic, the Ashen Demon himself is joining the Emperor's inner circle?!"_

_Annette reaches out a tentative hand to touch him. "We still have hope, Felix! We're still a ways off from Arianrhod and the-"_

"_It's not about strategy or the number of forces anymore!" Felix whirls on her, his eyes lit with a despairing fire that makes her tremble. "The professor is different. I saw him in battle, Annette. REALLY saw him." _

_His voice breaks. "Did you know that he doesn't flinch or wince no matter what he gets hit with? Swords, daggers, arrows…he just yanks them out and keeps fighting, plowing down soldier after soldier without so much as a hint of regret or emotion. He isn't human!"_

_Annette gasps as the coat falls from Felix's numb hands, heavy with red. She leaps to her feet. "Felix, you're bleeding!"_

_Felix smiles with no mirth. "He got a few good hits on me. I would've stayed longer to fight if the boar hadn't called to retreat."_

_Annette flies to him to assess the damage. Her hands shake as she uncovers more and more ragged flesh, torn from a serrated blade that was wielded with terrifying precision. _

_Her hands clutch at his chest. _

"_What were you thinking?" She glares up at him, her eyes filling with tears. "You need to stay alive! You have your dukedom to think about, and your friends! What would we do if you died in battle so recklessly?"_

_Felix stares down at her. Her shoulders are slumped, and her hair is matted. The dark shadows underneath her eyes tell their own story; of countless sleepless nights, of weary treks that last for days, of white-knuckled ambushes and midnight skirmishes. She's exhausted; they all are. _

_No one wants to be on the losing side of war. But they fight, nonetheless, for what else can you do when there's nothing but despair behind you and death in front?_

_What else can you do when there's no such thing as a second chance?_


	2. Vanilla Voices and Dark Chocolate Eyes

II.

An entire week's salary is sitting in front of her in the form of a tiny, pristinely made dessert, and Annette has never considered her money better spent.

It's an exquisite little vanilla layered cake, with tear-dropped dollops of cream and frosting running all around it in creamy wreaths of delicious perfection. It's dense, it's gleaming from the last bits of sunlight coming through the cafe's windows, and right on top of it all is a luxuriant large strawberry with a crown of ebony black chocolate.

It's perfection on a plate. She coos over it with longing.

Annette gently prods the cake with her fork. The prongs all but melt into the frosting. A breathy squeal leaves her lungs like the whistle on a steam engine.

"You look happy."

The amused voice makes her jump in her seat. Felix is standing in front of her table, bundled in a long grey overcoat with a heavy black bag slung over his shoulder. He's holding onto his coffee cup like it's the only thing tethering him to this earthly plane of existence, and looking at her with a curious gleam in his catlike eyes.

_He's tied up his hair today_, Annette realizes. _It looks…good. Really good_.

They've bumped into each other a few more times since…the library incident (she still can't think back to that night without burying her head in her hands and groaning with embarrassment). Every time she's seen him, Felix looks tired, as if the last few weeks of study have really been getting to him, but still dresses as if he's got a formal function to attend. Today he looks especially irritable.

"Oh, hi Felix!" Annette smiles up at him. "How are you doing?"

He groans, rubbing at his neck. "Just _fine_." The word "fine" is drawn out painfully, and Annette makes a sympathetic face.

Felix tilts his head at her, his tired movements betraying the sharp amber of his gaze. "Treating yourself?"

"Yup!" She chirrups, rubbing her hands together. "It's been a long hard week, and I need a pick me up! Isn't it super pretty?"

Felix shrugs. "For a cake. "

"It's perfect." Annette gushes. "Crumbs and Yums always makes their stuff really nice to look at. I come here as often as my wallet lets me!"

Felix snorts, glancing at the café's big bubbly sign above their menu, everything shaded in blinding, cheery colors. "I always thought that they should change the name."

"What?" Annette says in an aghast tone. "It's perfect! It's cute and punny!"

He gives her a withering look. She gazes innocently right back at him. They're always playing some variation of this game of chicken, and it doesn't take long before Felix snorts softly and gestures at the vacant chair in front of her. "Can I…?"

"Oh, knock yourself out." Annette says graciously. She pops a spoonful of cake in her mouth (aaaaahhh, heaven) as he sinks into the chair with a strained sound, as if he was on his feet all day and only just now got a respite.

"Long day?" She asks soothingly. Felix just nods shortly, unslinging his bag from around his shoulders and dropping it onto the floor. Annette could've sworn the ground shook with the impact.

"Same here." She prattles on, poking her fork into the cake again. "What is with professors and assigning butt-tons of homework right before holidays? It's such a pain…"

"They probably just don't want to grade mountains of papers over their breaks." Felix points out dryly. His weather-bitten hands curl around his cup and she admires the shape of his long, tapered fingers.

Whoa, Annette. No ogling today.

_Even if he is breathtakingly handsome _

"True, true…" Annette agrees reluctantly, scrambling to turn off that traitorous part of her brain before she says something embarrassing out loud.

Her mouth closes around another bite of cake. For a moment, she could've sworn Felix's eyes had darted to her lips, but before she could think of an emotion to feel (strangely enough, disgust is the last thing on her mind) he's steadily meeting her gaze again.

Felix nods at her open textbook on the table. "I've used that book before. Is it for Professor Eisner's class on Horology?"

"Yeah!" Annette perks up, her fork sparkling in the air as her hands clasp in excitement. "I love him! He does such a good job of explaining the weirdest concepts!"

Felix nods, the furrow between his brows softening. "I think I've seen you leaving his office before."

"Ah," Annette blinks, "No wonder you look so familiar!"

_You'll recognize him sooner with a sword in his hand and battle lust in his eyes_

Her head seizes with pain as her fingers fly to her temples. The fork clatters to the table. Crap, that stupid migraine is kicking in again. Why does it seem to be happening so much more often lately? She really needs to raid Mercedes' medicine cabinet again…

Across the table, Felix's hands whiten around his cup as a grimace twists his lips. A pained sound hisses past his teeth.

Annette recovers first, her voice a bit hoarse as she reaches forward. "Hey, you okay?"

"…'m fine." He mutters, his eyes faraway. "I just…need a moment."

While waiting for him to regain his composure, Annette takes the time to study him. There is something indescribable about the way Felix moves, the way he holds himself. Especially now, with the setting sun's rays falling on him and casting indeterminate shadows across the sharp ridges of his face as he stares into his coffee, he seems almost fey. Feral, wild, and just barely contained.

So why does he seem so _familiar_?

She's sure that even with the few times they've seen each other around the huge campus of Garreg Mach that it couldn't be enough to trigger such fierce feelings of déjà vu. They _must've_ met somewhere before, surely…!

"Annette?"

She starts.

_Annette_

His voice, speaking her name….why…?

"Yes?" Annette chirrups in a voice that's a little too high pitched to be normal. "I'm sorry, was I staring?"

"A little." His lips curl up in a small smile, and the sight of such a genuinely pleased expression on a man who she usually perceives as a general grump makes her breath catch. Right now she's surely blushing redder than the strawberry on her cake.

"You're teasing me!"

The smile doesn't leave his face. "Maybe I am."

_You're evil, Felix!_

Annette sticks out her tongue at him. "You're evil, Felix!"

Felix's smile falters. He stares at Annette like he's straining to see her through a thick fog, and it's like he's a whole new person all of a sudden. It's unsettling.

Annette frowns at him, nervous that she may have broken something in his brain. "Um, Felix…?"

He snaps out of his stupor in a flash, looking rather cross, as if he had just forgotten something that was really important. "What."

Annette smiles at him, a little uncertainly. "Sorry, it just looked like you went off to dreamland for a moment there."

"Who knows, maybe I did." He tosses back at her, and she giggles, popping another sweet creamy bite in her mouth. Felix scoffs, not unkindly, and lifts his cup to his lips to drink. Annette studies him with a sudden burst of affection for this new, prickly friend she's made. He's a bully and an absolute ass at heart but…well, that's Felix.

And since this is Felix, Annette smiles and reaches down to pluck her bedazzled phone out of her bag. "Would it be okay to ask for your number?"

Felix blinks, as if he's snapping out of a daze. "Huh? Oh, sure." Another uncertain smile crosses his face as he reaches for his own phone. "I would like that."

And when she accidentally brushes her fingers against his to give him her number, it's nothing short of electric.

O.O

_It's a bad day for rain. _

_There's water everywhere. It's slicking up the ground and ruining their bowstrings. It's clinging to their armor and soddening their boots. It's soaking their tomes and seeping through their pages. Their bladed weapons are beading with liquid and that's already a whole other disaster. _

_But the battle rages on regardless. _

_Dimitri puts them together, saying something about compatible personalities. He seems to be right, because they work together with brutal efficiency. She strikes down enemies from faraway, and he cuts down anyone who gets too close. They work well like this side by side. _

_His roars of attack and her steady chanting are just barely audible above the clash of battle, and yet it heartens the other to hear it. _

_She calls down blades of wind to slit an Imperial knight's throat before he has the chance to charge at Felix's exposed back. Felix gives her a curt nod of thanks before plunging his sword mercilessly through a warlock's chest. Blood sprays his face, but he wipes it off his face derisively and continues fighting._

"_The Ashen Demon! The Ashen Demon is here!"_

_The cry sends courage into the hearts of the Imperialists and fear into the hearts of the Kingdom soldiers. Annette feels the blood drain out of her face as a contingent of scarlet-clad soldiers march towards them, led by an all too familiar teal-haired figure._

"_Get behind me." Felix yanks her backwards, and she nearly stumbles at how hard he pulled her arm. He's not being rough, she realizes, her heart aching. _

_He's terrified for her. _

_Professor Byleth is just as they've remembered him from five years ago. His coldly sculpted face bears a face of calm assessment as he grasps the Sword of the Creator. His billowing coat sleeves flap behind him, and it unnerves them to see him so steady and self-assured even while being surrounded by utter carnage. _

_His calm gaze settles on them, and Annette could've sworn that his expression morphs into one of sadness before it shifts back to its usual mask of impassivity. _

"_Annette. Felix." His voice carries clearly through the blood-laden air. "You're in my way."_

"_And you're in ours." Felix snaps, his grip white-knuckling on his sword. His feet slide into a position of attack. The soldiers behind Professor Byleth brace themselves. _

_Annette feels the words fly from her mouth like blood from a wound, even as she raises her magic-lit arms. "Why, Professor? Why must we fight like this?" _

_Her plea rings above the sounds of dying, and of death. "Surely there was another path you could have taken that wouldn't had led to this!"_

"_Annette!" Felix warns. _

_Byleth's eyes widen. Something indescribable flickers through them. The tip of the Sword of the Creator trembles imperceptibly. _

_But this is war, and so without saying another word, they charge at each other, weapons lifted with every intention to kill._

O.O


	3. Blood Means Nothing Unless There's Love

III.

More oftentimes than not, Felix gets supremely pissed at his father.

Their fights usually could go two ways: they would have a one-sided shouting argument over the phone, his father enduring Felix's ranting with the phone held away from his ear, or they would go through a spell of classic cold-shoulder silence, sometimes for weeks at a time.

But there are times when a usual fight method just isn't applicable.

"Dimitri tells me you've been spending a lot of time with a girl lately." Rodrigue begins the conversation pleasantly.

Felix chokes on his coffee and from their ratty sofa Dimitri looks up from the TV with a raised eyebrow. He mouths the words Y_ou okay?_

Sylvain says something with a huge grin on his face, pulling his face down in a dark frown that does NOT remotely resemble Felix in any way and yet both Dimitri and Ingrid laugh.

He throws them all a collective scowl and returns to his call. "The boar is sticking his nose where it shouldn't belong."

"Well, I was surprised at the news myself." Rodrigue comments. "You've never mentioned you were dating anyone recently."

"We're not dating." Felix grits out, his grip white-knuckling on his mug. "We're just friends."

From the sofa, Ingrid leans over and says something to Sylvain, her eyes flicking over to Felix as she smirks. Dimitri chokes as they both snort with laughter and Felix wonders if he could still graduate with a charge of aggravated assault.

"I'm not trying to assume anything, Felix." Rodrigue says patiently. "But you know how I would like for you to settle down soon. A girlfriend could be a good first step."

"I'm not trying to settle down, old man." Felix snaps back. "We're just friends. Do I have to drill it into your thick skull?"

This time he could hear Sylvain's stage-whisper. "Definitely lady trouble."

"Alright, alright." Rodrigue says amicably, unaware that his son was making unsavory gestures at his laughing roommates as they spoke. "But from what I've heard, Annette is a very pleasant young lady. Do try to get along."

"You know Annette?" Felix says in surprise, his annoyance washing away with genuine shock and some suspicion. The trio on the sofa discreetly turn the TV volume a bit lower.

"Annette Dominic." His father sounds like he's clicking through something on his office desktop five hundred miles away. "She's the daughter of one my former business partners, Gustave Dominic of the Dominic Corporation. They have a fairly prestigious reputation until he left the country some years ago."

"I didn't know that." Felix says slowly, trying to process what he just heard. Come to think of it, Annette had mentioned her father with a sort of wistful air before, but he had just chalked it up to sentimentality at the time. Did Annette's father really run out her on just like that?

"We're hoping to partner with them some time in the future." Rodrigue informs him calmly. "I would be glad if you could continue spending time with Annette in a way that brings pride to the Fraldarius name."

Felix feels a flash of white-hot anger surge through him. His fist bangs on the table, making Dimitri jump and Sylvain frown. "Are you fucking with me right now?"

Rodrigue sounds like he realized he had just hugged a landmine. "Felix, listen—"

"Is this why you called me in the first place?" Felix feels his lips curling in anger. "Just so you could get cozy with your business partners through _Annette_?"

"Son—"

"I've had enough of you." He snarls into the phone. "I've had it with you. This is Glenn all over again. Have you not learned anything, old man?"

Rodrigue is silent.

"I'm hanging up now." Felix says, his anger simmering back to a sullen heat instead of a fiery explosion. "I'm going for a walk, and I don't want to come back to see your name on my voicemail. Got that?"

"Felix…" His father sounds tired. "I'm just trying to do what's best for you."

"Don't bullshit me, Father." He spits the last word like a curse, and judging from the pained sound on the other line, it hits home. "My life is mine. It's not yours to play with."

Felix throws down his phone in disgust. The trio on the couch stare at him wide-eyed, watching as he storms to the door and snatches his coat off the rack, a disgusted swirl of ashen gray.

"I'm going for a walk."

"Felix…?" Ingrid tries tentatively. Sylvain is reaching for his phone, his lips pulled down in a worried frown. Dimitri is already half-rising from the sofa.

He doesn't want to look at any of them.

The door slams shut behind him.

His cheeks sting with the acidic cold in the air. The wind bites and nips at his face, and Felix stomps through the frosty air with a heated violence that practically parts the few occupants on the sidewalk like an emptying basin. He storms down the road for a few furious minutes, his mind whirling with anger and confusion.

Business partner…daughter…potential…

_Heir_

…_Who are you, Annette?_

His head hurts, and he throws the thought aside with a groan of pain. That strawberry orange hair and those full moon eyes…just thinking about her laughing makes his heart ache in a way that shouldn't be happening at all.

From his pocket, Felix's phone rings, and he ignores it. It must be his father again, trying to make amends for something irreparable.

Future of the family name this, future of the company that…

The conniving old man could go to hell for all he cares.

Felix walks until his face is numb and the pain in his heart has dulled to a quiet ache.

O.O

You have (1) new voicemail.

Listen?

"_Hi, Felix. Um, this is Annette…I just wanted to see how you're doing…_

"_So…Sylvain just called Mercie—er, Mercedes, and told her what happened, and she kinda told me what happened too. I didn't realize…_

"_I'm sorry to hear about the fight with your dad. I kinda feel that, since I have a pretty…rough relationship with my dad too. I can kind of empathize with what you're going through. It sucks really bad, doesn't it?_

"_Um…so yeah, I am THE Annette Dominic. I guess we never really talked about who we were really. And yeah, I am the heir to the Dominic Corp., at least that's what everyone keeps reminding me about, anyway._

"_But I don't want this to change anything. I'm me, and you're you. Some fancy name isn't going to change anything. R-Right? I'm just Annette, and to me you're just Felix, not some son from a fancy company that makes…what was it? Electronics? Psh. That's pretty funny, thinking of you tinkering. It's just not you, you know?_

"_Ahem. Anyway. If you want to talk about it more, feel free to call me! I can always make time for you, Felix. Um…heh heh. I hope you know that, at least._

"_Okay, yikes, I kind of rambled a little, didn't I? Ha ha…okay, I'll hang up now. Just letting you know I'm here for you if anything happens. _

"_Call me back! Okay, bye."_

Click.

No new messages.

O.O

_He's fast. _

_The professor wastes no movement, no extra energy. He moves with experience, with the shadows of a hundred past battles lending him skill and power. He dodges lethal throat lunges and anticipates every feint, his boot-clad feet never slipping in the slick mud._

_Even the foreign and finicky attacks of magic that Annette desperately launches at him don't faze him. It's as if he knows where every spell is headed, where every conjured blade of wind will land. _

_It takes everything in them to dodge his relentless attacks. Felix slips up ONCE and the professor's sword manages to rip through the meat of his exposed shoulder. The glow of Annette's next attack falters and the professor easily sidesteps the spell._

_And through it all, the professor maintains the same exact expression of deadly focus and calm that he's been wearing this whole damn time. _

_It's driving him crazy. _

_Felix clutches his bleeding arm, panting harshly as the professor steps lightly back. He readjusts his grip on the Sword of the Creator, watching them with what has to be sick amusement in his starlit eyes. _

_Annette's legs tremble as the world blurs in front of her. Prolonged magic use takes a heavy toll on the body, and she's sure that she will soon pay for these dulled senses._

_They have to end this now._

"_Predictable." The professor says calmly. He takes them in, the way Felix is planting himself firmly in front of Annette, the way her magic surrounds him with a territorial light. The way they seem to breathe together, to move together._

"_So that's how it is." Byleth mutters. His eyes darken as he takes a step back._

"_Is that all?" Felix bites out, but it's a worthless taunt. The professor's jaw is tight as his expressions sets with steely resignation. His shoulders bunch up as he pulls back the Sword of the Creator—_

—_and he throws his arm forward as the sword snaps apart into a whip-like weapon, cutting through the air at a vicious speed that he could never block, curling around Felix like a perverse embrace—not to strike him but BEHIND_

_Oh Goddess NO—_

_And with a bloodcurdling terror that freezes his blood and stops his heart, Annette screams. _


	4. (Trampled) White Flowers

IV.

The flowers in her advanced botany class are spread out before her beautifully.

Against the stark white of the lab, the colors of the many-hued blooms contrast fantastically, and it gives Annette a pretty background to look at as she carefully tends to her own personal pot of _campanula mediums_, or as she likes to call them, "The Bell Shaped Ones that Look Edible".

She's very good at naming things.

Every student is given a unique flower to grow and observe, and Professor Hanneman is really picky when it comes to grading these reports, so Annette painstakingly writes down every detail of her flowers' growth, being so absorbed in her work that she doesn't hear the lab door slide open and a dry voice call her name.

"Annette?"

Unperturbed, Annette hums softly to her flowers, curiously touching the soft white bells as she sang, just under her breath to have that airy, dreamy quality like a lullaby.

"_Soft and white, pretty and bright…who knew a little flower could be such a sight…_"

She doesn't notice the way the tall figure pauses in the doorway, drinking in her every movement. She doesn't notice the slow, almost entranced way he moves across the floor, watching her as she kicks her feet with the careless joy of a child.

Thus, Annette doesn't notice until the very last moment that Felix is leaning over the counter by her side, a small lift to his lips as he questioned, "Those white flowers are yours?"

Annette shrieks and her pencil lead snaps with a deafening crack as she whirls around. Felix takes a few steps back from her, his hands raised defensively as something akin to amusement flickers across his pale face.

"You scared me to death, Felix!" Annette accuses him, her heart all but pounding out of her mouth as she clutches her notebook to her chest. "Why are you so quiet? You're like a cat!"

Felix blinks at her. "I actually did call out that I was coming in. It's not my fault you didn't hear."

_Well, you need to speak louder, then!_

"You need to speak louder, then!" Annette says huffily, crossing her arms in an attempt to make her meager height at least match Felix' much taller frame.

At this proximity, her eyes blur suddenly, and she could've sworn that she saw the long, unmistakable outline of a sword by Felix's hips before it quickly fades and she's left ogling the amazing sharp angles of his waist.

_Augh! We've been over this! No looking, Annette! _

Annette tears her eyes away and quickly rearranges a hasty smile on her face, hoping to any deity who would listen that Felix would not think her behavior odd. Well, _odder, _than usual.

Thankfully, Felix seems otherwise occupied. He's staring at her strangely, as if she's grown a second head, and Annette fidgets under his gaze. The moment stretches into two, and it's like a whole other person is standing before her. It makes her head ache like fury.

_Major Crest of Fraldarius, rightful wielder of the Shield of Aegis_

Annette finds herself swaying on her feet and grips the counter behind her to steady herself.

_Who are you?!_

Felix shakes his head, as if he shook off some obtrusive thought with it, and his eyes lose that glossed-over look from earlier, sputtering back to life like a fire in winter. He takes a step forward, his hand trailing to his hip, to that invisible outline of a weapon that shouldn't exist, and he freezes.

"What…"

"Dreamland's a bitch." Annette says without thinking, and slaps a hand over her mouth, horrified. "Eep! I meant—! Um—!"

But Felix, instead of recoiling at her words like people usually do when they hear a young girl like her say such a thing, laughs outright, incredulous and almost amazed.

"Okay, now you REALLY need to forget that I said that!" Annette wails, her ears hotter than the seething interior of a volcano as she tore at her hair in despair. "I'm just….ugh! I just, uh, need to—"

"I'm definitely not forgetting any of this." Felix hasn't stopped grinning at her, and it's doing something funny to her insides. "An unexpectedly foul mouthed girl, singing to her flowers by herself in a college lab. Now that's unforgettable."

"Felix!"

He snorts again, his eyes bright, and Annette feels the telltale flicker of a smile wrestle its way up to her mouth. _No! Stay strong, you blithering idiot! _"Bully! Villain! How dare you! My reputation depends on your secrecy!"

"Oh?" Felix leans forward, studying her features closely. Annette squeaks as he stares at her thoughtfully, not in the least perturbed by her outburst. "You don't look like a person who really cares about your reputation."

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" Annette wheezes, her hands clutching at the counter behind her to keep her balance. The fronds of her _campanula mediums _brush lightly against her back, like the playful nudge from a conniving matchmaker. Stupid flowers.

And it's not helping that her meager height of five feet (and one inch!) renders her at the perfect position to, if she so chooses, bury her head right into the crook of Felix's shoulder. Which she totally doesn't want to do. Nope, not at all.

"You're not all dolled up like some girls I know. Not at all like the heir to the Dominic Corporation, of all things." Felix says calmly, as if he's describing the weather and nothing else, lounging casually by her body with the ease of a relaxed tiger. "You buy yourself cakes at the end of every week and you sing to your flowers."

He smirks, and it makes his face devilishly striking. "Does that sound like a reputable person to you?"

"That's no way to talk to someone." Annette squeaks, her heart all but pounding out of her chest. Her face feels like it's on fire, and in this really bright florescent light, he's bound to notice how her cheeks could rival an apple's complexion.

He does notice. Felix's eyes trail over her every feature; her lashes, her cheeks and her lips, lingering like a feather-light caress, and all of a sudden Annette feels hot inside and out, her hands slipping on the counter as her knees grow just a little weaker with every passing moment.

"Well then, how _should_ I talk to you then?" Felix asks in a voice that's far too soft for a casual conversation. His eyes are dark amber, and his sharp teeth flash with every hissing syllable.

Damn, he's ravishing.

Annette realizes with a start that she's seriously weighing the pros and cons of kissing Felix senseless here and now. To tangle her hands in his long hair and to yank, to run her hands down the sharp line of his jaw, to hear him groan her name—

Judging by the way his breath is coming shorter and faster, his hand tightening on the counter beside her as his gaze grows feverishly bright, Felix's thinking about it too.

Dare she…?

Annette leans forward. Felix bends down.

…And the lab door flies open with a crash, a bored voice calling out, "After hours, guys. Time to lock up."

Felix and Annette spring apart like they've been burned, and Annette loses her dignity in a high pitched yelp, the sound reverberating through the room like a million voices echoing her shame that only cuts off when she slaps a hand over her mouth.

It's…not her finest moment.

The absurdly young TA from her class, the one who Professor Hanneman dotes on like a proud parent, studies them suspiciously, her cat-like eyes narrowing at the two frozen figures in the lab. "What are you two doing?"

"Uhhhhhh." Annette flounders, and Felix coughs into his fist, his body untucking itself away from her side, much to her body's dismay. She's not audibly subtle, and the way his darkened eyes flare at her sigh of disappointment makes the tension between them snap like static.

"Well, you're here at least, so you can help me tidy this place up." The TA marches past them, her unconcerned gait doing little to soothe their rattled nerves. "Hellooo? Come on, we don't have all night."

They lock up in silence, and Annette feels Felix's gaze burning a hole through her back the entire time. She later realizes that he never mentioned why he was looking for her in the first place.

O.O

_When she dies, Annette remembers only three things. _

_One: absolute gut-wrenching and eye-tearing PAIN. It's agonizing, the way her flesh splits apart, and only the lull of death makes the sensation go away. Then again, her life is fading with the pain, so its disappearance isn't really something she could celebrate. _

_Two: Felix screaming her name. He is at her side in an instant, tossing his sword aside wildly before gathering her in his arms. She curses the pain in her body for not letting her appreciate the warmth of his chest and the way he gasps out her name over and over, like a desperate prayer to a Goddess who will never listen. _

_Three: regret. _

_Annette regrets a lot of things. She regrets not making things up with Father. She regrets not writing another letter home to Mother, faraway in a lonely castle, with no one to comfort her when the news of her daughter's and husband's death reaches her. She regrets not hugging Mercedes goodbye; she regrets not cooking one last meal with Dedue, not being able to pore contentedly over another thick volume with Ashe…and not being able to chat with Dimitri over a sputtering fire one last time._

_But most of all, as the world winks out and the last thing she sees is the utter anguish on Felix's face as he sobs her name one final time, Annette regrets not telling this wonderful, beautiful, annoying bastard that she loves him. _

_And so that is how Annette Fantine Dominic, heir to her House and the first of her name, dies. _


	5. Her Eyes, Like Two Full Moons

V.

There is a tree on campus that students creatively call "The Flower Tree", and it's a local oddity.

It's a crabapple tree that blooms out of season, and by some genetic quirk, it flowers in the deadest months of winter. It has baffled botanists and geneticists alike, but the university's publicity people jumped on this pot of proverbial marketing gold and now there's pictures of this damned tree _everywhere_.

But even Felix has to admit that it's quite a sight. Recently, the tree's flowers are just beginning to bloom. The flowers are soft and lush, and their colors range from pastel pink to ice white. Set against the blackness of the winter sky, it's quite pretty.

At least, that's what everyone seems to think. Frankly, he couldn't give a damn if the flowers were neon green or eggplant purple.

But Annette could NOT stop gushing about them. She passes by it every time she walks home from work and they can't exactly avoid it, as it's smack in the middle of the campus (and yes, he's taken to walking her home from the library. It doesn't mean anything, got it?).

"The lights on the quad make it look so mysterious, don't you think?" Annette tugs on his sleeve to point at the faraway glimmering tree, and Felix huffs exasperatedly, a non-committal sound that does nothing to curb her enthusiasm.

"It's so magical." Annette continues dreamily, her voice taking on the tell-tale lilt that usually precedes her odd little songs, so he feels rather disappointed when she leaves it at that and continues skipping down the path.

Felix decides to rile her up. "It looks haunted."

It gets the exact reaction he anticipated. "Hey, don't say that!" Annette squeals, reeling away from him as her face drains of color. "You know how much I hate ghosts!"

"Ooooo." Felix intones in a deadpan voice.

She punches his shoulder, and he can't hold back his snicker as they tromp down the cobbled walk winding its way towards her dorm. It's becoming cold, and so the edges of the sidewalk are tinged faintly with frost.

"Are you going to the winter dance next month?" Annette chirps, her footsteps light and bouncy. "I heard from Mercedes that she thinks Sylvain is going to ask her soon."

Felix snorts. "You didn't hear this from me, but he dragged me out of bed to go buy flowers with him this morning."

"Woooow, how romantic!" Her eyes become wide and round, like two full moons, and he has to turn away quick to hide the growing heat in his face. "Whatever."

"So I guess you're not planning on going then." Annette continues breezily. "No special someone?"

_Only you_

"No one in particular." Felix chooses to say instead. Damn it, why is his pulse racing so fast?

Annette gets a little quiet then, and he glances down at her, thoughtfully kicking her heels against the sidewalk. Her eyebrows are drawn together and she's got a small frown on her face.

Is she…disappointed?

They pass by the crabapple tree. They have to duck underneath the blackened bough sticking its knobby arm out over the sidewalk, the lantern lights casting an ephemeral glow over the white and pink flowers. A few stray petals tickle Annette's nose and she sneezes. "Excuse me!"

He wordlessly brushes the petals off her hair. She blushes and ducks her head in the cute way that makes her hair hang over her eyes. Her pale cheeks are apple-red, and her lashes are sweeping low over her face and it's—

Felix then does something that would have him groaning with embarrassment into his pillow four hours from now. He reaches up to the tree, pulls a crabapple flower off the caramel branches, and tucks it behind the pearly shell of her left ear.

Annette turns four different shades of red and gapes openly at him, her hand going up to unconsciously touch the soft petals of her flower.

Common sense and autonomy return to him with a flood of embarrassment. Felix ducks his head to hide his furiously red face. _What the hell was that, you idiot?_

But Annette beams up at him, her face suddenly and absurdly happy, and everything takes on a ridiculous rosy hue. "T-Thanks."

Felix mumbles something incoherent, his head whirling and his heart beating like a galloping horse.

They move on in slightly awkward silence, but Annette is no longer dragging her feet. She's practically vibrating with delight and he feels her delirious happiness chase away the dark cobwebs of his own anxiety. It smooths away the crease between his brows and calms the racing pulse of his heart.

They reach the steps of her dorm and Annette lingers on the threshold, blinking owlishly at him in the dim glow of the lamplight.

"Thanks for walking me back." Annette beams up at him, and his breath catches in his throat of how _beautiful _she looks, rimmed in the light like this. It's like she's powerful and magical, as if she could tell him to do anything and he would fall on his knees to obey in a heartbeat.

_It's like I'm your captive._

Pain blossoms out from behind his head, accompanied by colors of vapid starlight. This time though, Felix grits his teeth and weathers through it as Annette fidgets on the steps of her dorm.

"I'll…see you tomorrow then?" She ventures softly, her cheeks still dusted with an adorable shade of pink. The flower above her ear trembles with anticipation.

"Yeah."

Shit. He didn't mean to say it in such a lowered voice, dark with a promise that he's only thought of on lonely nights. It's too much like the night in the laboratory, when she had looked so goddamned _alluring_ with her parted lips and her hooded eyes and it had taken everything in him not to kiss her breathless right then and there.

With his current state of mind, Felix's too embarrassed to meet her gaze, and doesn't see how her fingers tighten painfully on the straps of her book bag as her eyes flood with something hot and curious.

"Okay then." Annette says merrily, her hand going up to touch the crabapple flower in her hair. "I'll let you go now."

_Your captive, your captive, your captive_

When Felix speaks again, he's relieved to hear that his voice has resumed its normal cool tone. "Goodnight, Annette."

"Goodnight, Felix! Walk home safe!" Annette waves at him before keying her way into the building, popping the door open and ducking inside. She gives him two thumbs-up through the window and he snorts at how childish she can be sometimes.

He can't keep the smile off his face the whole way home.

O.O

"_ANNETTE!" _

_The wail of utter rage and grief echoes around the battlefield as Felix cradles Annette's bloody body in his arms. He knows without checking that she's beyond saving; her entire middle half is almost shorn in two by that cursed CURSED sword. _

_She's dead. Annette's dead, her slate-blue eyes frozen in that terrified expression of pain as the last of her magic winks out from between her fingers. She won't be singing anymore, she won't be smiling anymore, she won't be talking with him deep into the dreamless nights with anymore and she's gone gone gone—_

"_I'll make you pay!" Felix screams as his hand snatches up his mud-slicked sword. "I'll carve out your heart and feed it to the beasts!"_

"_It won't be in vain." Byleth says softly. His eyes glow neon colors. _

_Annette is limp and cold in his arms and she's DEAD. _

"_You took her from me." Felix's voice breaks as he lifts his sword. "I'll KILL you."_

_The damned professor doesn't say another word. He gestures his battalion back and they part ranks for him. He prowls towards Felix assuredly, wielding the cursed blade that's wet with HER blood. Letting loose a broken cry of fury, Felix charges at him, his sword point aiming for that pale exposed throat—_

_The Sword of the Creator tears into his neck and the last thing he sees as he falls is Annette, stretching out her pale arms to welcome him. _

_And that's how Felix Hugo Fraldarius, heir of the Dukedom and second of his name, dies. _


	6. Memory is a Knife and We're Bleeding

VI.

It began to snow sometime this morning, and by the time Annette steps out of work well into the evening, the drifts are already up to her calves.

Normally, she would be kicking happily at the snowy piles like a kid, but today she trudges gloomily through the snow with her throat drawn tightly and her chin tucked deep into her scarf.

Felix is at his usual spot again, waiting for her underneath under the tall lamppost at the corner of the street. His hands thrust into his pockets makes the shoulder pads of his black coat bunch up, setting off quite the sharp figure, but even his feral beauty couldn't shake the dark cloud over her mood.

"Hey." He greets her.

"Hi." Her voice is clipped, and he raises an eyebrow at her short tone.

"You alright?"

"I don't want to talk about it." Annette stomps through the snow with her head ducked down. She can hear him following behind her at a careful distance, and she can definitely feel his eyes boring into her back through the layers of her puffy white coat.

Usually by this time, she would be cheerfully telling him about what happened to her today in class, or gushing about the now fruiting crabapple tree (she still has a few petals of his flower pressed in her journal in her room). He would then reluctantly open up about his own day after some prompting from her, and they would walk companionably home the rest of the way.

But tonight their usual familiarity is lost amongst the foulness of her black mood as her fur-lined boots crunch through the snow with frustrated steps. His quieter footsteps follow cautiously behind as they slowly make their way through the dark campus grounds.

By the time her dorm looms into view, she's practically stomping holes into the concrete. Annette could tell that now Felix's concern has turned into alarm, and so he's the first to break the silence. "Annette—"

Annette kicks viciously at the snow. "HE'S SUCH AN IDIOT!"

"Oh." Felix sounds a bit taken aback, but he doesn't say anything further before asking in a steely tone, "Who's 'he'?"

"My dad." Annette scowls at the falling snow, angrily brushing aside the pointy flakes that have gotten into her lashes and her scarf. She doesn't see his shoulders slump slightly with relief.

"He's refusing to come home for my mom's birthday. She's not asking for him to come home, but I overhead her saying to my uncle how she desperately wants for him to just at least _visit_." Annette stomps a flat pile of snow as her frustration builds.

Felix is quiet, but she can feel his full attention on her as she continues, her voice breaking.

"I called Dad today, and do you know what he said? He said that coming to Mom's birthday would RUIN her day. He kept saying all these things about how he wasn't worthy to stand in our presence, and how he lost everything in the Duscur case all those years ago…

"He's being utterly ridiculous!" Annette feels tears stinging in her eyes, and she rubs at them angrily. "Mom doesn't care about his reputation! I don't care about his reputation! I just want him to come _home_."

She feels a weight on her shoulder. Felix's hand, smoothing the snow away from her coat. He's being careful, his fingers curling gently around the curve of her shoulder, but it melts the angry coil in her stomach until all she can feel is weary sadness.

Annette's mentioned her father to him before, and Felix hadn't reacted like the others did…words full of useless sympathy, trying to lecture, nag, or advise.

He just…listened.

And he continues to listen as she sniffs, the sound loud in the otherworldly silence of the snow.

"I got really mad at him." Annette whispers sadly. "I said some really hurtful things about how he was being selfish and thoughtless. I hung up on him before I could say anything more, but I was just so _furious_."

She turns to look up at him, finally meeting his gaze for the first time that night. "Did I just do something really stupid, Felix?"

Finished with one shoulder, Felix sets to work on the other. "I don't think what you did was stupid." His cool voice is steady and quiet. "But I think you do have to talk to your father again."

Annette goes a little limp with defeat. "Do I have to?" Her voice sounds small, even to her own ears. "I…really don't want to apologize."

"I know you don't want to." Felix replies calmly. "But that's why you have to do it. I…" He bites his lip and turns his face away, his hand loosening on her shoulder.

She stares up at him, uncomprehending.

When he finally speaks up again, Felix's words come out jerkily and uncertainly as he stares at some distant point away from her. "Do you remember how I had fought with my old man, and the red-headed idiot blabbed about it all to you and you called me? From a few months ago?"

Annette blinks a little, her eyes widening. "I remember."

"I…he…" Felix takes a deep, frustrated breath and lets it out. "I called him later and I apologized. It wasn't easy…my old man is a stubborn ass. But we made up, and it's a hell of a lot better than what we had before. I couldn't believe how bullheaded I acted before."

Annette swallows. "I…get it. But…" Her voice turns plaintive. "It's hard. I don't feel like apologizing right now."

"So don't." Felix's hand hasn't left her shoulder and she's perfectly fine with that. He's idly running a thumb back and forth across the material of her coat, and it makes a soft scraping sound that's oddly soothing. "This sort of thing…it's stupid, the way feelings work. But you have to do it sooner than later, or you'll regret it."

"Got that, Annette?" His eyes finally, finally meet hers again, and the warm empathy in his sharp amber eyes contrast with the sharp line of his mouth. It's a funny little juxtaposition that has her heart swelling with deep, fond affection.

She laughs a little, her hand coming up to rest on his shyly. "When did you get to be so wise?"

Felix coughs faintly, his cheeks turning pink. It's adorable, the way his jaw tightens and his eyes dart away to look somewhere else, anywhere else, than her face. "Shut up."

_Felix? Are you blushing?_

Annette leans forward. "Are you…blushing?"

His nails suddenly dig into the meat of her shoulder and she winces a bit, opening her mouth to stop him, when she sees the expression of pain cutting across his face. "Felix…?"

"It's nothing." He mutters, but the grimace has yet to fade from his face. "I just…thought I remembered something. That's all."

"O-okay." Annette frowns at him as Felix seems to shake off the last of that strange haze.

"I'm sorry." He pulls his hand away her shoulder like she's hot metal, a look of guilt flashing across his face. "Did…I hurt you?"

"No, I'm alright." Annette gives him a brief smile as she squeezes his hand reassuringly. "Thanks for letting me rant…and for what you said."

"Of course."

They stand like that for perhaps a heartbeat too long, and they stare at each other as their fingers stay entangled. Even with gloves on, his palm is warm against hers, and for a second she thinks that his hand is tightening around hers.

The snow begins to fall thick and fast around them, and a few snowflakes fall on her face and melt against the heat of her cheeks. They streak down her face like teardrops and with one gloved thumb, Felix wipes them off.

Annette doesn't lean into his touch. Noooo, not at all, not like some sort of needy cat who just had its ears scratched, purring like a lawnmower—

Then she hears it. That soft inhale, that hiss of air being drawn in through clenched teeth. The unmistakable sound of Felix catching his breath.

This is just like the night in the lab, except instead of snapping tension, this is warm, swelling heat that builds and builds and demands an outlet…any outlet.

Her eyes raise to meet his, and Annette is startled to see that Felix's face is red. His hand doesn't move from her face and she's not moving her cheek either.

_Felix! Are you...blushing?_

_I don't know. Shut up. I'm not blushing._

The voices were clear as day and yet none of them had said anything. His eyes widen. Her eyes widen as well. For a moment they stare at each other in utter confusion. They had just said that, just a few moments ago.

_A lifetime ago_

Didn't they?

"Did you—"

"—say something?"

Annette trails off weakly. Felix shakes his head in disbelief.

"I'm not hearing things, am I?" Annette says softly. "Just now I thought I just heard—"

"An echo." Felix's voice is hoarse. "Something from…a long time ago…?"

The incredulity in his voice only spurs on that confusing, mind-numbing pain in their heads, like a gloved hand squeezing their minds senseless. That familiar ache is back, and this time it's stronger, pulsing insistently on the inside of their skull, pounding like some sort of war drum—

_War_

_DEATH_

And suddenly they're both keeling over into the snow, the pain exploding behind their skulls like fireworks and they can't do anything to stop it as strangled screams are torn from their throats while the snow (_rain_) falls around them—

_It feels like splintered throats_

Like a broken sword

_Like burning sorcery_

Like broken hearts

_Like an inevitability_

Like a second chance. 

O.O

"_Our victory at Arianrhod is all thanks to you, Professor. We certainly could not have done it without your help."_

"…"

"_Professor! You're quite pale! Have you sustained an injury? Come, let me bring you to the infirmary at once."_

"_Forgive me, Edelgard, but I must go back. There's something I need to do."_


	7. Chiliad

VII.

For a Goddess-chosen mortal, Byleth Eisner has seen everything.

He's seen battles won and lost. He's seen children shipped off to war, carrying weapons that were crafted for larger hands. He's seen cut futures and unraveled beginnings. He's seen split skies, heavenly javelins, and gods. He's seen war under a crimson flag, an azure banner, and a golden sigil. He's seen war under a dragon's kind, cruel maw.

But the hands of time had always been the strangest.

They were great tenuous things, bending like silk and bottomless like the ocean. They were fickle and unforgiving, heedless to the cries of humanity and unfailing in their inevitability, and yet they gave way under his divine-assisted touch like wilting petals.

He has bent them backwards again and again, this incomprehensible system that's but a concept in the minds of others. He's made them dance to his tune, to his whims, to his liking, as easy as snapping his fingers or blinking his star-touched eyes.

But who _is_ he to command such power?

Terrified peasantry called him the Ashen Demon. Jeralt the Blade Breaker called him "kid" in his gruffly fond way. The Officer's Academy knew him as _the_ professor. His lovers called him Byleth. Archbishop Rhea pronounced him the Goddess' avatar.

And finally, Garreg Mach University knows him as Professor Eisner.

But those children….they knew him as their murderer.

He found them in the snow, both dead to the world as their memories plunged back into their helpless bodies. They had fainted from the pain of their past, with their bodies curling in on themselves as two lifetimes' worth of memory battled for dominance in their uncomprehending minds.

They were facing each other. Just like that day in the rain, with blood pooling beneath them and the cry of victory leaving the lips of the Imperials.

Byleth felt regret like he never knew it on that day, when the Sword of the Creator plunged into Felix's neck and the swordsman died with a strangled curse on his lips, when his body slumped to the mud, his hand reaching desperately for the cooling body of the woman he loved.

And that was when something in Byleth snapped.

He had fled Edelgard's confused gaze that night, filching the swiftest stallion from the stables to travel frantically back, back to the rain soaked battlefield.

The undertakers were already making their way through the bodies, swathed in emotionless white as they silently and efficiently carried each corpse away for tending on makeshift stretchers. Limp limbs dangled from the stretchers, and unseeing eyes stared up at the weeping heavens.

But the white-coated ones hadn't reached Felix and Annette yet.

Byleth fell to his knees by their still bodies. The blood had dried and their skin had taken the ghastly pallor of death. They were facing each other, reaching, reaching fruitlessly.

_I am truly a demon._

He stretched out his hands. They trembled as he put one on Felix's hand, the other on Annette's.

"Sothis," Byleth called out in anguish, "If you were ever my friend…please, forgive me for this last weakness."

His hands blazed to life. The starlight in his eyes flared neon green and diamond blue. The world fractured and the hands of time turned—then spun wildly as he gritted his teeth and willed Time into submission.

_Sothis!_

Time froze. He saw them. Both of them, hovering over their bodies, watching him with the impassive silence of the dead. There was sorrow in her eyes, and anger in his.

"Forgive me." Byleth murmured, as time swept through him, slipping through his fingers. "I can only do this much."

They looked at him. Their gazes were hollow.

"Please." His voice broke. "Find each other under a kinder sky. I know you can. I have seen you do it once before."

The spirits considered him a moment longer. After a tense pause, they lowered their heads, whether that be in deference or in thanks, he could not tell. All that Byleth knew was that they were walking away from him, his hand tightly holding hers as they sped towards a brighter lifetime, where one could finally love without the menacing shadow of a bloody, fiery war.

They winked out of sight. Byleth slumped to the ground, gasping for breath as time resumed its normal flow around him. He barely noticed the concerned people surround his shaking body with alarm.

"Sir! Sir! Are you alright?"

To their confusion, he began to laugh. A brittle laugh, like a bough of a winter tree limned with frost, filled with the amusement of an eternal goddess who is so,_ so_ tired with living.

"Isn't it ironic…" He said hoarsely, "…how love could be so pitiless, and time so merciful?"


	8. Your Laugh by my Ear

VIII.

(11:09) hey Felix I just wanted to let u know that I woke up just a few hours ago

(11:09) they put me on bedrest for a few days, but they told me that I didnt sustain any lasting damage or anything

(11:09) nuerologically I mean

(11:10) *neurologically

(11:10) I cant spell .

(11:10) can u text me when ur awake? We need to talk

(11:10) I want to do it in person but they wont let me into the men's side of the wing

(11:11) okay, wont bug you anymore, bye

(14:34) _I'm awake_

(14:44) oh thank goodness

(14:44) how u feeling? Dizziness, headache?

(14:45) _Like someone put their fist in my windpipe_

(14:45) drink some water

(14:45) how ur symptoms?

(14:46) _Exhausted and my brain feels foggy_

(14:46) same here

(14:46) it's the side effects of that weird medication they gave us

(14:47) _Yeah_

(14:49) listen felix about that night

(14:49) did you remember anything?

(14:52) _What do you mean?_

(14:52) I mean, it's kind of a jumbled blur

(14:53) there was a war…I think it was raining

(14:53) _Bits and pieces for you too?_

(14:53) yeah, but…it's so strange

(14:54) I get the worst headache when I try to think about it any more

(14:54) but a few things kinda stick

(14:54) a castle and my hands glowing

(14:56) _I remembered swords and blue banners_

(14:56) this might sound really weird but I think I dreamed of Professor Eisner

(14:57) _I did too_

(14:57) _I don't think I liked him_

(15:00) hey did you know that it was the professor who found us that night?

(15:00) he seems to be a part of this

(15:00) we might need to talk to him

(15:02) _I'm not sure I trust him_

(15:02) I don't like it either

(15:03) but he could explain why the hell this is happening to us

(15:03) if he doesn't help than we punch the truth out of him ok

(15:03) _That's my girl_

(15:18) asdfgfhdjgfhk

(15:18) you can't just say stuff like that felix!

The old nurse nearly jumps out of her skin when the dark-haired patient she's tending to suddenly chuckles at his phone. It's quite a shock to see the usually sullen young man smiling like this, as if an angel had blessed him straight through that tiny phone.

_Then again, _The nurse thinks to herself, shaking her head as she changes his IV, _anything could happen through those blasted screens these days. _

O.O

"I'm glad to see you both out of bed."

Professor Eisner comes out from behind his desk to greet them. He's smiling, and there's a strained quality to it that makes Felix think that he's been pulling too many all-nighters. But when he moves to shake the other man's hand, his grip is steady as a rock.

Annette takes the offered hand with some concern, studying the wrinkles lining his face. "Have you been sleeping okay, professor?"

The old man shakes his head. "Please, I've always told you to call me Byleth.

"Please, have a seat." He gestures at the plush chairs, and both Felix and Annette sink into them with a sudden wariness that surprises them both.

Byleth sits down in front of them, suddenly looking very weary. "I understand that you wanted to talk to me regarding what happened to you last week?"

"Yeah." Felix leans forward sharply, pinning the professor with his glare. "Did you have anything to do with it?"

"_Felix_." Annette scolds.

Byleth laughs a bit dryly. "I did find you two in the snow on my way back from my office, if that's what you're asking about."

"No." Felix plows on, shaken by the coolness of this unperturbed man. "We saw you."

"You couldn't have, you were unconscious."

"Pro—I mean, Byleth." Annette cuts in before the steam could shoot out of Felix's ears, "The people at the clinic told us that we had some sort of a neurological breakdown. We…saw things that couldn't be possible."

Byleth cocks his head. "What kinds of things?"

"Crazy things." Felix mutters. "Castles, knights…"

"I saw my dad on a horse." Annette adds incredulously. "It was WEIRD."

Byleth chuckles. "I could picture Gilbert on a horse."

Annette blinks confusedly. "My dad's name is Gustave."

"Excuse me, so it is." The professor says smoothly. "You'll have to forgive me, my mind's not quite as sharp as it used to be." He taps his gray temples apologetically.

Felix narrows his eyes. Byleth is dodging their questions better than Sylvain is at dodging responsibility. "What's really going on, Byleth?"

The older man sighs. "I'm sorry, you two, but I'm not a neurologist. This is out of my area of expertise…but if you really want to know what I think, I could only guess that you both suffered such a severe shock that it probably triggered some past trauma."

"We never suffered any past trauma." Felix barks. "The only 'severe shocks' we're getting are splitting headaches."

"And it's only triggered when we see each other anyway." Annette adds absently, like an afterthought. Only when Felix chokes does Annette, belatedly realize the implications of what she had said, and she turns redder than a cherry as flounders for an explanation.

Byleth's eyebrows arch well into his hairline. There's something sharp and shrewd in his eyes, like a predator crouching before the killing move, and it makes Felix's skin crawl.

"Well then," The professor says in calm and deliberate tones, learning forward, "You might have to spend some more time together to test that theory. Mustn't be too hard for you two since you're…what was it? 'Seeing each other'?"

Annette moans incoherently and shoves her head in her hands. Felix summons what's left of his shattered pride and pins the unruffled professor with a fiery glare. "Stop beating around the bush. What the hell are you getting at?"

Byleth rummages in his desk. He pulls out an ebony black flier sprinkled with white glitter and pushes it across his desk towards them with a look far too innocent for his lined face.

"What are your thoughts about the upcoming winter dance on Friday?"

O.O

"I thought I was going to die of embarrassment right then and there." Annette wails into her pillow as Mercedes' hand trails soothing circles around her shoulder blades. "I couldn't look at Felix, I couldn't look at Professor Byleth…I just flew out of there as soon as I could!"

"There, there." Mercedes croons, patting her hair. "It couldn't be as bad as all that? You were able to figure out what's been bothering you all this time!"

"I wouldn't say that." Annette mumbles dejectedly into her pillow. It's her favorite pillow, with embroidered dancing teapots and teacups sewn by her mother. "I'm just really confused about what to do. And I'm constantly hallucinating that I could shoot fireballs from my hands!"

"Oh my." Mercedes puts a hand to her mouth.

"And what's even more confusing," Annette whispers, "is that I remember him, Mercie! I get déjà vu whenever he walks around a corner or I hear his voice…I see him in my dreams and I don't even know why."

"There's a name for those kinds of dreams, you know." Sweet, kind Mercedes says with an unutterable placidity.

"MERCEDES."

Her best friend calmly resumes her massaging of Annette's back. "You like Felix, there's no denying that, at least."

Annette feels her face heat up against the cotton cover of her pillow.

"I do." She admits bashfully. "I really, really like him. I think he's cool and really hot and also really sweet and he listens to when I babble without putting me down and he even likes my singing…"

"Aww." Mercedes coos. "I'm very happy for you, Annie."

"Mmmm." Annette whines into her pillow, thoroughly and abashedly flushed from head to toe at her confession.

"So what's stopping you from telling him and going to the dance?"

"Because what would I do if he doesn't feel the same way about me?!" Annette wails.

Mercedes giggles sweetly behind one perfectly maintained hand. "Honey, I've seen Felix around other people, and I've seen Felix around you. The boy is besotted with you, Annie!"

Annette buries her face in her pillow again, making a sound remarkably similar to a boiling kettle.

On her nightstand, her phone begins to jingle, nearly vibrating off of the table's surface. Mercedes catches it with swift grace and hands it to Annette, smiling as deviously as that angelic face would allow. "Speaking of…"

"Augh, gimme that." Annette snatches for the phone, her pulse already racing at the sight of the familiar name blinking on the screen. She sits up determinedly. "A little privacy, please?"

"Of course, darling." Mercedes pats her head as she scoots off the bed and sails out of the room with a sweet little giggle. "But I'll want to hear every detail afterwards!"

As soon as the coast's clear, Annette answers the phone with a herculean effort. "Hello?" She cringes at her own voice, three octaves higher than usual.

"Hello." Felix's amused voice replies. She shivers at the intimacy of his voice, and curses herself for it. "You alright?"

"I'm okay!" Annette rolls onto her back, staring sightlessly at the ceiling as her fingers curled around her phone. "What's up with you?"

He huffs into the other line. "You're being awfully squeaky."

Annette groans into the phone. "Can you blame me? It's been a _day_."

"Yeah, it has." Felix replies dryly. "My classmates keep asking me if I had my organs harvested or some other nonsense. It's annoying."

Annette feels a surprised laugh bubble to her lips. "_What_?"

"Would I lie to you?" His voice is warm, and it makes her heart stutter in the most medically improbable and delightful way.

"Sometimes you do." She retorts quickly, her blush seeping into her throat. "When you tell me I sound good when I sing."

There's a beat of surprised silence. "You do." Felix replies with some confusion.

"No I don't!" Annette says, but she's grinning and blushing and tingling all over like she just stuck a fork into the nearest socket. "It's embarrassing and I never meant for you to hear me!"

"And yet I did." Felix points out. "When I saw you in the library."

Annette starts. "The library?"

Felix makes an affirmative sound. "Remember? 'If you blow up the library, where would we put the books'?"

Annette nearly drops her phone.

Those are not words she had heard him speak before. And yet she remembers them clearer than day. She sees stars, she sees candlelit books and leather bound tomes nestled in rich wood bookshelves. She sees plush carpets, stone walls, and curved windows.

And haloed in it all, she sees Felix, looking up at her as she balances on a wooden stepping ladder, with his copper fire eyes and his crossed arms and his sharply carven features, looking at her with the fondness of a soulmate and the adoration of a lover.

Oh. _Oh_.

"Felix…" Annette breathes out, heated and dizzy.

She can hear his breath stutter over the phone. For a moment they simply sit in silence together, terrified to break the quivering silence that stretches out finer than a spider's dragline between them.

Felix breaks the silence. He sounds agitated when he speaks up again, his voice suspiciously hoarse. "Listen, Annette, I need to tell you this before my head explodes."

"Go ahead." She says dizzily.

"I dream of you." Felix rasps. "I see your face when I'm asleep and when I wake up. I hear your voice, singing those songs of yours like an infinite loop. I can barely focus on anything else; not my classes, my work, NOTHING. And you know what's really unbelievable, Annette?"

His voice thickens into a near-growl. "I want _more_."

Annette melts. Her hand fists in her skirts.

"I don't understand it." Felix plows on, frustrated, his pent up energy seeping out through the earpiece and possessing her with the same restless prowling energy he embodies. "I don't get it, and I don't understand why you're in my head like this! It's like—"

"—like you're my captive." She finishes softly.

Felix's next words are…not coherent. When he regains control of his tongue again, he's flustered. "Y-yeah."

Annette giggles softly, the intense wave of emotion that had flooded through her fading away into a comfortable, languid peace. Judging by Felix's steadying breathing on the other line, he's experiencing the same thing.

They sit quietly, thinking of a glass house, a strain of softly sung music, and a blushing, beloved face.

"You know." Annette pipes up after a moment, her fingers tapping eagerly on the phone, "I'm not exactly busy Friday night."

Felix hums into the phone. "You want to listen to that old geezer's advice?"

"Hush." Annette scolds. "That man is an esteemed professor at this university."

"He's a crazy old man." Felix huffs. "But he's not exactly an idiot either." His voice warms again, the cool veneer slipping away to revealing the cautious hope underneath. "So you really want to go? Together?"

"No, I'm going with my stuffed elephant." Annette quips merrily. "Of _course _I want to go with you to the dance."

Someone in the background whoops. Felix's voice blurs as he pulls away from the phone to yell, "Get off the fucking line, Sylvain!"

His voice quiets as he comes back into focus. "Sorry about that."

"No." Annette chuckles, swinging her socked feet happily. "I don't really mind. This means we can share the limo with Mercedes and Sylvain."

Felix groans at the thought. "Do we have to?"

"If we ask nicely!" Annette says decisively. "We can split the cost and it'll be much better than taking the subway downtown."

"Alright then." He relents unwillingly. "So I guess I'll see you tomorrow? After your work?"

"Yeah, if you feel up to it."

"I'll be there then." Felix pauses, as if reluctant to leave. "Goodnight, Annette."

"Goodnight, Felix!" Annette hangs on a moment longer, and then she's met with the unromantic sound of the dial tone.

She drops the phone, rolls over onto her back, and promptly screams into her hands.

Mercedes peeks her head in, her blue eyes big with curiosity and a hint of roguery. "I take it that went well?"

"Mercie." Annette says breathlessly, her face still clenched in her hands, "I need to buy a _dress_."


	9. I Shall Sing You a Night Song

If you spoke to the stern-eyed assistant of the university's president, Seteth Cichol (no relation to the saint, of course), you would be informed that Garreg Mach University is kept a strictly dry campus. Alcohol inhibits the senses and promotes bad health habits, and the limitation of such a substance would be nothing but beneficial to the students of this esteemed school.

But that didn't stop a certain knavish, twinkling-eyed individual with a gleeful perchance for mischief from heavily spiking the punch bowl at the 128th annual winter dance on a wintry Friday night.

"Oh, God, Dimitri's dancing." Annette gasps, tugging on Felix's sleeve. "Look, there, with Edelgard."

"He must've had half a glass." Felix comments with razor-sharp amusement at the sight of the absurdly tall man trying to match his lumbering pace with his stiff-backed partner. "Lightweight."

"I can see this going all over social media tomorrow." Annette sweeps her hand out dramatically, almost splashing Felix with her punch-flavored alcohol. "'_Bitter stepsiblings put aside rivalry for a waltz_!' They're going to have one heck of a hangover."

Felix agrees with a grunt, steadying her arm before she collapses. She graces him with a charming smile and promptly trips over her own two feet. "Oops!"

"If you knew we were going to be dancing why would you wear those things?" He chides her as she rubs her ankles ruefully. Her shoes are thin, strappy silver things that look more like something you'd find on a dentist's counter rather than on a woman's heel.

"Mercedes says that wearing shoes like these could make my legs look longer." Annette says mournfully, sticking out said leg to demonstrate. It's pale and slender, and suddenly Felix feels the room grow several degrees hotter. "Does it?"

"It certainly helps with your height at least." He finds himself saying instead. Annette squeals and punches his shoulder. "How dare you! I'll have you know that five feet is considered average!"

Felix smirks down at her, admiring the way he can the clear swoop of her neck meeting her chin like a bird's wing. "I see your lips moving but it's hard to hear anything from this high up."

"Okay, that's it." Annette slams her glass down on the confections' table and grabs at his suit collar, dragging him towards the dance floor. "We're going to go out there and dance, and you're going to keep that mean mouth of your shut while I enjoy myself! Got it?"

Felix's 'mean' mouth is opening with an immediate protest but her grip is like a vise and he's afraid to tear the sleeve of his needlessly expensive suit if she pulls any harder. So he trails after her as she marches unapologetically through the swarm of couples into the middle of the dancefloor.

And, alright, he admits it. He's not against the idea of having a hand on her swan-like hip and another entangling his fingers with hers as they maneuver across the smoothly polished floor, the skirts of her sinfully skin-tight gown sweeping against his legs as they guide each other through the steps of a dance they haven't danced before.

God, he's a sleaze, isn't he?

Felix barely has time to blush at his own fantasy as Annette finally stumbles to an unsteady halt in the middle of the floor. Her hands dither around a little, her previous bravado leaving her as quickly as the sobriety level in the room, and he has to be the one to adjust their bodies until suddenly everything that he had just been thinking about comes truer to life in an instant.

It's not quite perfect. Even with her heels, she has to strain a little to reach the full breadth of his shoulders, and there's a slit in her dress that (_holy fucking hell_) ends right above her waist that he can't just put his hand on, so he settles for holding her side instead of her hip. Their feet slide uncertainly on the floor until they finally fall into a rhythm that they're both comfortable with.

But even this…this is more than he could've dreamed of. Annette is soft and pliant in his arms, and at this proximity he could smell her clean baked-cookie smell and feel every heave of her breath on his chest. Her wide blue eyes fixate nervously on some point past his ear and he admires the sweep of her golden lashes, the slight smudge of her lipstick from drinking, and the constellation of freckles on her marble-white face.

Her dress is not helping either. It's backless, the color of the winter sky, and hugs her form in a way that transforms her sweet and cutesy body language into something wicked and charming, like a secret whisper best reserved for the night's unobtrusive privacy.

Felix thanks any deity who might be listening for Mercedes' sense of fashion.

"Felix." Annette blinks at him owlishly. "You're being awfully quiet."

He lifts an eyebrow. "You told me to be."

"But…" Annette bites her lip again and it does _not_ make matters better in the slightest, "You're looking real intense and I can't tell if it's because you hate dancing or if you're just uncomfortable."

Felix snorts, letting her sweep with a swirl of icy skirts under his arm. "I'm not uncomfortable."

"You've got a crease between your brow." She reaches up and pokes at his forehead, grinning. "It makes you look cross."

He retaliates by narrowing his eyes and yanking her closer to his body, his arms falling around her as she teeters into him. Annette yelps at the action, her hands scrabbling at his chest before she glares up at him through her lashes, so tantalizing close, just like that night in the laboratory.

"Trust me." Felix mutters for her ear and her ear alone. "I'm definitely not uncomfortable."

She blushes, but instead of that delicate dusting of pink that he's so accustomed to that usually scatters and disappears from her face, it's a liquid heat that seeps down into her collar and drenches her face in scarlet.

Annette shifts her body close to his shyly, a little uncertainly, but with a definite intention that makes the coiling warmth in his stomach curl like a lion's lips around its jaws. Her arms drape casually around his shoulders, and she tilts her head in a way that makes her hair drop and curl around her eyes, framing the dark gleam in her eyes.

_Well, if she wants to play that way…_

His hands drift downwards to hold the slender swell of her hips, fingering the damned slit in her gown where her bare flesh juuuuust peeks out from behind the thin blue laces. When she doesn't protest, he slips a grateful hand to explore the silky heat of her thighs.

It's the sound that leaves her throat, a barely audible breath that ends in a moan, which finally breaks him.

He moves forward, just a little to bridge the gap between them until their noses bump. Felix pauses, watching her face to gauge her reaction. She whines impatiently and surges the rest of the way, leaping up a little to kiss him fervently, her hands holding his jaw as he kisses her back with relief, with want and with utter depravity, his shoulders bowing as he reels her into his body.

They're lucky that the floor is so crowded that night. Everyone else around them is too wrapped up with their own affairs that they don't notice the dark haired man palming the red-haired girl's ass with a frantic impatience that tells of two lifetimes' worth of unbridled desire. But Annette certainly notices, her high-pitched gasp muffled in the ebony-black of his suit.

"Do you think Sylvain and Mercedes would mind if we left the dance early?" She gasps into his ear, her hands trailing below his suit collar to stroke the strained cords in his neck.

Felix is already pulling her off the floor, practically shoving bewildered couples out of the way in his haste. "Don't you dare bring up Sylvain right _now_."

Annette giggles charmingly, leaning forward to nip at his ear, exposed because of his tied-back hair. "Trust me, you're the only one I'll be thinking about tonight."

Felix snarls with pleasure, drawing her fiercely to his side as they make their flustered and hurried way to the doors leading out to the chilly night air.

"Let's keep it that way, _Annette_."

O.O

The door slams shut behind them as he throws her up onto the wall of her apartment, pressing frantic kisses to her mouth as she mewls underneath him. Her legs lock around his waist he pushes himself closer to her, groaning as she all but melts into his body, her arms looped around his neck as her fingers curl into his hair.

"Dress….off…" Annette manages to gasp out even as his hands are busily unpeeling the tight fabric off of her shoulders.

"This damned thing's been driving me crazy all night." He breathes out hoarsely, yanking at the fabric with frustration. Every bit of silky porcelain skin that is being revealed to is making his breath hitch with absolute want. "I can feel _everything_."

"Oh dear." Annette giggles breathily as the dress falls off of one freckled shoulder, revealing the gentle curve of her collarbone and the reddening skin above. She tugs incessantly at his collar and he lets her pull his suit jacket off so that it's tossed aside in a pile of ebony fabric by their feet. "Maybe I did it on purpose."

"You tease-" Felix's infuriated voice suddenly cuts off into a strangled choke as her hips rub lightly against his, and holy mother of hell the _friction_-

"You like that?" Annette's voice has gone down to a smoky purr and she feels absolutely delighted when Felix's eyes roll into the back of his head as his jaw tightens imperceptibly. Untying his undershirt, she curls her hands around his bare skin and marvels at his body.

"Just, augh, shut up." His hiss holds no actual bite because it's so dulled by want. They haven't even gotten everything off yet and he's already hard, aching for her every touch, every soft caresses of her fingers and God her clever little mouth, which was keeping itself occupied by sucking red blossoms on his neck…

_Petal pink flowers_

"Familiar…" Annette sighs into his collar, and Felix shuts his eyes and sees, instead of the granite dorm walls with the electric lights; a rain-sodden tent, with its flickering candles and their battle uniforms tossed carelessly on the damp brown grass.

And she had writhed just like this under his body, her eyes shut as her hand stifled the needy moans that spilled from her kiss-bitten lips. He had pushed himself deeper into her, gasping filthy things into her ear as her legs locked tightly around his hips.

It was heady, it was desperate and ferocious and adoring, and they had died the very next day.

"This happened before." Felix mutters into her hair. Her hands, busily combing through his ponytail, still.

"Oh-"

Her eyes widen as sensations from another life flood back into her mind, and her lithe body bucks underneath him unconsciously, her back arching. He curses and holds her still, sweeping her arms above her head with one arm as the other runs down the heated curve of her side, feathering his hand over every dip and swoop of her body with wonder.

Annette's voice is choked when she manages to speak again. "We died…"

"And we're back." He growls into her ear, possessive, enthralled, and utterly sinful. "And I will never let you go again, you hear me?"

"Did Professor By—OH—!"

Felix cuts her off by biting a furious red crimson mark into her neck and she tightens against him, her body going taut with pleasure. Her whine threads into the air and it makes his whole body shudder.

"I thought we made it clear that you're not saying any other name besides mine tonight, understand?" He glares at her as his arms come down to grip her tightly, and underneath his fury she can see a possessive desperation, a feral adoration that's sweeping through his entire expression.

His voice goes soft. "I love you, Annette." It shakes, trembles, and she's trembling just as much in his arms. "I never got to tell you that before."

Annette laughs abruptly, her voice breaking on a short sob as she lets her forehead bump against his. "I love you too, Felix. I wanted to tell you when I…died…but I couldn't…"

"I want to hear it." Felix's face goes from soft to devious in an instant, and the relief and wonder in his gaze is steadily sharpening into a smoldering triumph that makes her knees go weak. "I want to hear it over and over again, when I fuck you into this wall until you see nothing but me."

He lowers his mouth and licks a slow, deliberate path up from her neck to her pearly ear. "_Sing for me, Annette._"

Annette's eyes stretch impossibly wide, but he's already running one of his hands up her thigh, searching and searching until his fingers stroke against her wet heat and she actually squeaks, her hand going up to muffle her cry.

_Just like in Fhirdiad_

"That's my girl." He breathes as she cries aloud at the sensation of his hand spreading her slick folds effortlessly apart, her hips snapping forward in a desperate bid for more as he explores her with reverent wonder. He's delighted that she's dripping like this for _him_—

"Ah—ah—Felix—" Her hand had slipped from her mouth so her cries echo freely, and it's the sweetest melody he has ever heard.

"Hold still." Felix tells her hoarsely before removing his hand. He licks his fingers clean, grinning as she turns beet red at the sight, and pries her legs apart again, tucking his disheveled hair behind his ear before bending back down. "And try not to smother me."

Much to her embarrassment, Annette all but shrieks when his tongue slides across her slit, her cry ringing clear through the air as he works a filthy magic on her cunt. She throws her head back when his tongue delves into a particularly sensitive slice of flesh, and the sounds she's making have melted into a babble of words, of meaningless combinations of _please_ and _Felix_ and, just as he had asked, _I love you_, unfettered in her ecstasy.

His lidded eyes watch her lazily all the while, with catlike eyes that drink in her every facial twitch and pitched reaction just as he's drinking from her. And Felix drinks like a thirsted man.

When Annette comes, it's like the snapping of a rope. She wails his name with uncaring volume, and her whole body staggers from the sheer wave of heat and fulfillment that he has inflicted on her. It's a miracle that she's still upright.

Felix smirks, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand slowly, his eyes rising to meet hers like smoke unfurling from a fire. "You liked that?"

"Hah…hah…get back here." Annette bends down dizzily to plant a messy kiss on his lips, still wet with her tang. Her hands cup the smooth column of his throat to steady herself, and his hands come up to cradle her elbows, her hair curtaining them both.

When she feels him groaning into her touch, his arousal growing heavy and hard on her calf, she pulls away. "Should I return the favor?" Her voice is rough from all her shrieking, and it makes him ache to hear it.

"Not now." Felix stands, his breaths coming in heaving gasps. "I need to feel you around my cock. NOW."

Her vision whitens and she whimpers, the juncture between her thighs aching.

He heaves her up onto the wall, her bare back meeting cold stone. She doesn't even have time to shiver because he's already shucking off his pants with a hurried impatience that's delightful to witness, and when he's kicked them off she's unabashedly staring at his straining erection with an open mouth.

_Wow. I'm not walking straight tomorrow._

Felix breaks out into a short laugh, and to her unbridled horror Annette realizes that she's breathlessly voiced her thoughts aloud.

"I—um, uh—" She stammers and flounders, her hands flying like a spooked bird's wings, but he cuts her off with a kiss, so deep and delving that it drives all thoughts of embarrassment out of her mind.

"If anything, I'm flattered." He confides to her when they pull away, and she breaks out into a nervous giggle, her hands clutching at his sweat-slicked shoulders. Felix echoes her laughter as he holds her, the tension breaking into something affectionate and tender, like a wine-dark glow settling over their bodies.

Their laughter dies as his hand settles on her waist as he settles his hips against hers with an air of finality. His eyes flicker up to hers, a question, a wondering plea for affirmation that this is alright. His unspoken gentleness spears through her and suddenly she's falling in love with him all over again.

Annette half-laughs, half-sobs. "Felix, I've told you yes before. Why would this second life change anything?"

Felix leans forward and puts his lips on hers gravely. "I wanted to be sure." A wry smile twists the corners of his kiss-ruined mouth. "A lot could change in between then and now."

She plants her hands on his jaw and looks him in the eye. "Nothing's changed, Felix. Not me, not my feelings….nothing. Do you understand?"

Felix chuckles, his hand caressing her cheek. "It's still good to hear it."

"Plus, I'm on the…" She gestures vaguely, her color rising as he stares blankly at her— "…the pill." Annette finishes with a fluttering laugh. "If you're worried about, uh, you know…"

His fears allayed, Felix smirks. "Good. That means I don't have to hold anything back."

And with that, after a drawn in breath of resolve, he buries himself in her, right up to the hilt.

Annette remembers the first time they made love, in that rain-sodden tent on the outskirts of Fhirdiad, not knowing if death or glory awaited them the very next day. She had cried out then, when he had pierced through her maidenhood and took her for his own, and she cries aloud now, her fingernails digging into his shoulder as her back arches, pushing more of him into her than before.

Felix's gasping incoherently into her ear, babbling nonsense just like she had just been a few moments before. Never before had Annette heard him so undone, so heedless of his pride or his dignity, and it's divine.

He's lost in her, in the tight warmth of her walls, clenching and unclenching around him in a way that makes his head spin. And when she pushes her hips up into him, stroking him for every inch that he's worth, Felix curses long and brokenly, his gasps heaving through his chest. Never has he been so undone.

This time it's her turn to work him through it, her own broken voice encouraging him to find his pace; her sweet, wicked words that coax him into a frenzy as her fingers pull at his hair, exposing the pale line of his flushed throat, marveling at his unparalleled beauty even like this.

She had sung for him. Now she's making him sing.

"That's it, that's it, you're so good for me, Felix," Annette croons breathlessly, her hands pulling at his hair as her words are interrupted by her own gasps when he thrusts, "Ah, can you feel what you're doing to me? I'm like this because of you—oh—oh—"

"Annette—" Felix groans, his hand grabbing at the back of her neck and reeling her frantically to him, "Annette—fuck—"

She does this thing with her hips—sliding down and around and forward—and it spurs him to push further and higher into her, hitting a sweet spot that makes her voice go high-pitched and desperate.

By now, Annette's clawed a whole tapestry of scratches on his back that's sure to itch in the morning but at this moment he couldn't care less, fucking her until she's shrieking his name and throwing her head back so it thuds on his hand cradling her skull from the hard concrete wall.

And just when they've climbed so high that they couldn't possibly climb any higher, Annette gasps out a sort of garbled version of his name, stretched thin with desire, and with a jolt he recognizes that sound from a rainy last night in a faraway land at war and Felix can't take it anymore.

He comes with a cry that's riddled with agonized pleasure, despairing joy, and happy anguish that floods his senses like blood over grass. She follows soon afterwards, screaming out his name as she tightens around him painfully, like the most exquisite of vises.

They collapse in a tangle of limbs, exhausted and glowing bright with the aftereffects of orgasm. When Felix comes to his senses, he feels Annette's small hand gently combing his hair back, her fingernails lightly scraping at his scalp in a way that makes his head tingle.

Her lidded blue eyes are hazy with pleasure and memory, her touch thoughtful as she gathers his hair so it's not matted across his face. He automatically returns the favor, stroking the damp fiery strands of red away from her soft, dreamy gaze.

Annette giggles at his tenderness. "Hi." She chirps softly.

"Hey." Felix smiles tiredly back, affection blooming like pink-petal flowers in his chest.

"I don't think we really got any farther than this, you know, from before." She murmurs, rearranging her body so she's sitting upright, her hair falling around her rosy breasts. "You had to sneak back before dawn so we wouldn't cause a scandal."

"I remember." Felix replies, his voice just a little short. He didn't like to think of that time; they were soaked with rain, desperate, and filthy from travel. She deserved a queen's bed, a real bath, and a life that wasn't cut short by a cursed sword.

Annette pokes his head again, her kiss-stung lips stuck out in a familiar pout. "You've got the crease again."

"I'm sorry." He laughs, just a little bitterly. "I just—I never knew we could have…" Felix touches her face, traces her cheeks with his thumb, "…this."

Annette hums softly, leaning into the cradle of his palm. "And yet, we do." She smiles widely, the radiance all but blinding him in its splendor. "Isn't that the funniest thing?"

Felix pulls her to him. He stands, swooping her into his arms with an effortlessness that makes her yelp with mingled surprise and delight. It's too far to the bedroom, and so he carries her to the sofa and pulls the giant quilted blanket with embroidered tea kettles over her.

She snuggles into the covers with a gentle sigh, and it makes his heart ache with love to see her alive and whole before him, glowing like there's a sunset in her body—gold and orange and white. Annette screws one eye open and pats the empty space next to her imperiously, and like a wild animal under the bridle, he follows her.

It's a bit too small for both of them, especially with his long legs, but they make do. She slips most of her body on top of him, and he folds her into his body as she sighs appreciatively at the toned expanse of his chest.

They lie in silence, listening to the sound of each other's breathing and the humming of the building around them. But Annette could feel Felix still lost in his bitter thoughts, his breathing rattled and his body tense.

She sighs and pokes him in the ribs. "Okay, what's wrong?"

He grunts and shoves her back, albeit with little bite. "Nothing."

Annette strokes his forehead with a wise air. "The crease never lies."

Felix sighs and relents. He addresses the ceiling, his voice quiet and close in the dark room. "I'm afraid to fall asleep. What if this was just another memory, and I wake up to that damned tent in Fhirdiad?" He shuts his eyes. "My head hurts and I can't tell if it's the alcohol or the past."

Annette makes a sympathetic noise, wrapping her arms around him. "I'm scared too, Felix." She tells him honestly. "But this all felt pretty darn real, don't you think?"

When he doesn't reply, she huffs and nudges him with her hip. "Do me a favor and touch the wall. Is it solid or soft?"

Felix lifts his arm and raps the concrete wall with a knuckle. "Solid." He confirms.

"Not at all like tent vellum, hm?" Annette smiles at him in the dark, her hand stroking his hair. "And you hear that? It's not raining outside. It's a nice clear winter night, no snow, no rain…nothing. Right?"

"Mmm."

"Felix," Annette strokes his cheek. "Whatever happened in the past, it's all gone now. Somehow, we're here, and there's not a war. There's just some familiar faces and friendly rivalry between a few fraternities. It's not the end…it's a fresh start."

"We don't know that."

"Yup!" Annette ripostes cheerfully. "And that's the awesome part!" She leans in, her eyes bright and conspiratorial. "We don't know that. And, like I said, if some teal-haired, Goddess-chosen, sword-wielding professor tries to change anything again, we could always beat his ass until he cries for mercy."

Felix snorts, that small rare smile she always adored lifting his lips until the crease between his brows vanishes. "That's my girl."

Annette huffs proudly, burrowing into his arms with triumph. "I'm your girl."

He presses a kiss to her brow, and she sighs contentedly. Annette begins to hum drowsily, the faint melody reaching out to hold him hostage just like that fateful day in the library, on the third floor of the St. Macuil Resource Center. It's a different song, a tenderer song.

"_He's a grump, he's a grouch, but there's no one else I want on my couch_—"

Her song pulls him to sleep; it's not so different than dying, Felix thinks drowsily. But this time, he doesn't fight back. He surrenders.

He had always been her captive, after all.


	10. coda

_years later_

It's winter, and the tree has flowered again.

It's gotten pinker and frothier, and it strains for the sky like a lover reaching for their partner's hand. The trunk has thickened in length until a grown man can barely fit his arms around its middle. It's hung with fairy lights.

And they're here.

I shouldn't be out here in the cold like this, what with my crumpling bones and all. If Seteth were here, I'm sure I would be scolded soundly, just like in our monastery days. But I couldn't help myself from returning to this place. _Their_ place.

They've come back during the holidays, as always. Standing underneath the tree, admiring its pink flowers and their persistence. His hair is pulled back into a long tail of ebony, and hers is tightly coiled on her head like a magnificent fiery crown. They've never looked more beautiful.

Around them, their children laugh and kick up drifts in the snow. Their tiny voices echo around the mostly empty campus, and even at this distance, I can see their resemblance to their parents. His fiery steel, her boundless cheer…they all shine through their children's every movement.

He's not smiling, but his face has the gentlest expression I've ever seen. She's beaming, as usual, but now it's tempered with a sort of older softness, a fond weariness that comes only to the aged. They've escaped the horrors of war, but the trials of life cross all manners of Time.

The dark-haired man bends down to say something to his wife. She retorts by jabbing his side with her elbow, her bright blue eyes flashing with indignation as he gazes down at her with roguish fondness. He apologizes with a soft caress of her hair, tucking a petal pink flower behind her ear.

She surprises me by blushing. Even after all this time…?

Their children come running to them, chattering excitedly. Their voices ring with quicksilver mischief, with irresistible sweetness like the unfettered cheer of the birds. Their father bends down to wipe the snow from their lashes as their mother laughs at their windblown faces.

I turn my head away. I feel like I'm intruding on a deeply private and sacred moment. An avatar of the Goddess, feeling sacrilegious? I am amused by that juxtaposition.

I sink down onto a stone-worn bench, and I put down my cane. I ache, all over, without, and within.

I never thought to see them again after I had pushed that white-sprinkled ebony flier towards them. I left the campus that night, seeing the hands of Time whirling all around me as the past and future converged on each other.

I had never though that it would work, that they would turn out so well. It was a gambit that I had thrown that night, and somehow, my odds were favorable.

I raise my hands, staring at them. Weathered, ancient and shaking hands. The very hands I had used to touch their hearts to send them tumbling into an uncertain future.

Did I make the right decision? Was it my decision to make? To answer honestly, I don't really know.

I never really found my answers in black and white. There were always other gray threads, leading to other futures where they chose and were chosen by someone else. Other futures for them that could've led to happier endings, to more favorable outcomes…to less deaths…

To chase them all…I wish I could. If I still had my energy of younger days, I would follow every loose end until my brain tangles and my feet stumble in the endless labyrinth of time. Gods know, I have tried it before.

And yet…I am just a Goddess-touched fool, always trying to bring my students the happiness that they had deserved from the very beginning. I have wrought so much pain, and so little happiness. This world is cruel, for no matter what path I choose or whose strand of life I pluck, someone dies and nothing changes.

But in this strange case…I think I made the right decision. A single lifetime of happiness far outweighs the bitterness of the tragic.

So I stand here, watching them laugh with their children under the winter flower tree, both of them smiling like there's no other future that they could want, and I feel tears gather and freeze underneath my eyes.

"Mama! Papa! My feet are cold!"

"This is what happens when you don't wear your boots, Glenn."

"Don't listen to him, sweetheart, Papa's being a tease today. Now call your sister and let's go home, hm? You've romped enough for one day."

"Oooooookay."

I watch them walk away, hand in hand as their kids laugh from their shoulders. I watch them speeding onwards to an uncertain, kinder future, and I feel the five lifetimes on my weary body ease.

They've found each other. They're happy.

And in the end, that's enough to satisfy me.

.

.

.

_fin_


End file.
